Time After Time
by Nopride4531
Summary: Sequel to Dark Doesn't Always Mean Evil. Two years after Olivia Armstrong returned to her own time, a mysterious force decides to send her back. Now sixteen, she arrives approximately one month before Abraham Lincoln is shot at Ford's Theatre. Enlisting the help of Henry, Olivia struggles to make a plan that, if it works, could change history forever. Henry/OC rated T for language.
1. Introduction

**Hello one and all and welcome to the new sequel to Dark Doesn't Always Mean Evil! I understand that a lot of you may be confused, but I just didn't feel like Bury the Light was cutting it. So I decided to write something different.**

**This takes place about two years after Olivia goes home. Lincoln is still alive, but time is running out. I hope that you guys like this!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter or any of its characters. **

* * *

_The woman in black paced the length of the dark, dismal corridor, an aura of irritability fluctuating around her. Snarling, she wrapped her shawl more tightly around her thin, yet muscular body and blew a breath of cold air through her nostrils. Snow whipped around her poorly clothed feet as she trudged along her dreary path. _

_Oh what she wouldn't give for a damn drink._

_She sensed a presence behind her and stopped pacing, dark eyes shutting as slowly as sap flowing from a tree. She inhaled deeply, stiffened her stance and spoke with a carefully clipped tone:_

_"How long has it been?"_

_The reply was immediate._

_"Two years, Ma'am."_

_"And what's the problem?"_

_Hesitation._

_"There seems to be some slight regression."_

_"Hmph..."_

_The cold pressed around them like a snake constricting its prey and the soul behind her, male if her mind's eye was correct, shifted uncomfortably before finally finding his voice:_

_"What should we do, Ma'am?"_

_"We?" She scoffed with a low chuckle. "WE are not going to do anything. I will take care of this matter... once and for all."_

_Silence._

_"Now take your leave."_

_She waited until she cold no longer sense his presence before opening the piece of paper that she'd concealed in her shawl. She pulled out a pen and, after shaking it to get the ink flowing, began to write._

_"Hello Sunshine," it read. "It's been a long time."_

* * *

I woke up feeling like I'd gotten hit by a planet.

Groaning, I heaved myself into what barely qualified as a sitting position and cocked my head back and forth a few times to dispel the stiffness. My eyes, dull, droopy, and dreary, took in my surroundings and I immediately scrambled on to my hands and knees. Fear crashed into my chest like a barbell weight, making it hard for me to breathe. As tears welled up and clouded my vision, I somehow knew exactly what had happened.

_Welcome back to Hotel 1800s_.

My hands frantically ran themselves through my hair, latching on tight as screams rang out of my lungs. Blood poured out of my nose, eyes, and ears as I bellowed out my distress. Now before you go questioning my logic, remember that _I know what's going on_. I've been through it before. Hell, I spent an entire month and a half of my life in this place and believe you me, that's enough time for a girl to be able to recognize where she is.

Slowly, so very slowly, my voice grew more and more hoarse until I couldn't find it in me to scream anymore. Untangling my hands from my thick, knotted brown mass of hair, I drew them to my nose and gingerly pressed it. Scarlet droplets of blood clung to my skin as I pulled my palm away and examined it. There wasn't much, maybe enough to cause a squeamish person to faint, but not so much as to say that my life was in danger. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. Salty tears had mixed with the blood, and I could only hope that they didn't leave large streaks of crimson across my face.

I carefully got to my feet and leaned against a crumbling brick wall, already gasping for breath after the brief exertion of energy.

It was only then that I truly began to get my bearings.

It looked like that time traveling bastard didn't dump me in some random person's front yard. No from what I could tell, I was in an industrial area, complete with textile mills and iron factories. And the brick wall I was leaning against? It was literally the only thing that stood upright in its former building. A small, neatly folded piece of paper that was caught under a brick drew my attention and, grasping mortar cracks for support, I slowly made my way along the dusty road. My knee throbbed painfully with my heartbeat, making walking a lot more difficult than it should've been. Each step was agony and when I finally reached the note, I felt like I was going to collapse. Again.

_'Hello Sunshine,' _it said. _'It's been a while.'_

Well, if you call two freaking years 'a while,' then why yes. Yes it has.

_'Look, I know that you thought it was over. For a while there, so did we. Adam's dead and the vampire empire is no more. _

_But things come up, Sunshine. And in your case, they resurface. No, Vadoma and her psychotic brother are not coming back to life; they're worm's meat at the moment. However, you let us down, kiddo. When we sent you back for the first time, I honestly thought that you would learn a lesson or two. Guess I was wrong. For a while, it worked. But then you started to regress._

_We can't have that. Not now and most certainly not ever. _

_In the building this note is attached to, you'll find a backpack enclosed with basic necessities to get you through the night. After that, you're on your own. No katana this time. _

_Your best bet is to find the only friend you have in this time. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to see you. _

_Good-bye, Sunshine. And good luck._

_P.S: The Old Ebbitt._

_-S'_

Anger bubbled up within me, but somehow, I managed to surpress it and instead search for the meager supplies that I'd been left. Finding the backpack was easy enough; it's not exactly like looking for a needle in a haystack. No, it was more like looking for an anvil in one.

Sliding the pack on to my shoulder, I slowly made my way out on to the main road. If my senses were correct, it was about eight at night and also the end of the workday. Glancing at the note once more, I immediately asked one of the many employees what the hell the Old Ebbitt was.

"Excuse me, sir," I said as nicely as I could and pointed at the name. "Do you know where this is?"

"Right across the street," he muttered and rubbed his soot caked jaw. "Rooms only cost about two dollars a night."

I nodded my thanks and limped into the tavern, the blood on my leg slowly dripping to the floor. No one acknowledged me as I walked over to the barkeep, placed my money down on the counter, and said,

"Cheapest room and cheapest food, please."

I guess that it's kind of unusual for a girl my age to ask for such things (let alone in a _tavern_) because as he handed me a key and a slice of bread, he looked at me like I was off my rocker. I gave him what I hoped was charming smile (which most likely ended up being a horse face) and shouldered my way through the crowd, up the stairs, and into my room. i shut the door and promptly flopped down on to the bed, exhausted from the day's events.

Despite how hard I tried, I couldn't fall asleep. Questions burning at the forefront of my mind prevented me from doing so. Why did S manhandle me back here? What did I do to deserve it? And why, as per usual, did it _not_ send my iPod?

Groaning, I rolled over and stared up at the oakwood ceiling, tears leaking out of my eyes. I angrily wiped them away and lifted my body into a cross-legged position. No. No, I wasn't going to cry. Not anymore. Not after everything that's happened. I felt the moisture in my eyes dry and with a slight fluff of my hair, I stood and unpacked the small rucksack S had miraculously provided me with. No much was in it; Just a dress from the time period, some well made boots, the ever popular bonnet, and the rest of the money that the note mentioned.

With a sigh, I slipped into the dress, grabbed some cash, and quietly stepped out into the hall. With the full intention of getting a proper meal, I stumbled down the steps and over to the bar. Mindful of my injured leg, I carefully sat on a stool and asked for a menu. The owner gave it to me with that same wary look on his face and then absently went back to cleaning his mugs. After ordering some stew and a cup of hot tea, I settled down to wait however long it took for the cook to prepare my food.

* * *

An hour later saw me on my third cup of tea and my meal _still_ not ready. If I haven't already mentioned this, I am the most impatient person alive and at the moment, my empty stomach was really getting on my nerves. Not to mention the fact that it was about nine p.m. now and the tavern was filling up with people who were hell bent on getting wasted. Some of these men were getting a little handsy with the small amount of women that were there as well.

"Hey, uh, bro, I mean... sir," I stammered to the barkeep when one of said drunken individuals noticed me. "Listen, uh, don't worry about the food, okay? I'll even pay you for it."

If he noticed my unease, he didn't show it and just gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. Smiling nervously, I paid for my tea, made sure not to leave a tip, and headed for the stairs. But before I could even get within three feet of them, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I was jerked to a halt.

"Woman like you shouldn't be all alone," he said and I shivered.

"Excuse me," I dismissed, trying futilely to be cordial. "I need to get by."

"I'm sure you do," he murmured and I struggled against his iron grip.

"Let me go!"

"Mmm why should I?"

"Because _I'll_ snap you bloody neck," a voice behind us said and the creep whirled around.

"This isn't your business, _friend_. I suggest you leave."

"Well you see now, it _is_ my business," the mystery man hissed, anger coating his slight English accent. "This girl happens to be in my care, therefore if you attempt anything with her, you will be dead before you hit the ground."

All of a sudden, it clicked for me. The darkness, the mysteriousness, the accent...

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Very," the creeper ground out and released his hold on me.

I spun around and watched him walk away, hands clenched into fists at his sides and footsteps heavy.

"Are you alright?" My savior asked and I immediately threw my arms around him.

"Henry!"

* * *

**Annnd that's a wrap for the first chapter! I'm so so so so so so so sorry that it's this late, but I hope that this made up for it. Also, for you Doctor Who and Walking Dead fans out there, Navitri and I are co-writing a crossover fic. It's called The Last Page and is usually updated weekly or so. Feel free to check it out! Oh and please review! **

**Until next week (I promise),**

**Adios mis amigos!**

**-Nopride**


	2. Home

**Well bros, I'm sick. Some sort of bug that's driving me nuts. So sorry that the update's a little late. Thank you guys for all of the reviews. They really mean a lot.**

**Bloody-kick-ass: I'm baaaaaacckkk lol :) And here's an early-ish update for ya!**

**BoomShackalacka: Aww thank you sweetie!**

**Guest: I haven't decided if he's going to be in this one. So far, I don't believe so. **

**Guest #2: Thank you!**

**Shellzbells24: I would never forget about you guys :') and as for the romance... perhaps...**

**Supernatural Fan1213: Thank you :) I'm glad that you like this idea so far!**

**And without further ado, here's the next chapter!**

* * *

_Previously on Time After Time..._

_"Are you alright?" My savior asked and I immediately threw my arms around him._

_"Henry!"_

* * *

Now

To say that he was surprised would be the biggest understatement of all understatements.

In response to my spontaneous hug attack, Henry practically turned into a statue. A breathing, technically alive statue, but one nonetheless.

"Miss Armstrong?" He breathed as he pried me off of him and held my shoulders.

"No, it's Winston Churchill." Wait, he won't be born for another-

"Who?"

Crap.

"Forget it," I said and smiled at him. "Spoilers."

Okay, so I'm going for the River Song personality. Sue me.

He ignored my modern term and instead led me up the stairs, away from listening ears and quite frankly disgusting, creepy people. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my room so I could explain everything as best as I could.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" He demanded as he sat in one of the chairs the room was decorated with.

"Nice to see you too, Henry," I muttered, already thinking up new nicknames besides the World's Biggest Jerk.

He sighed, apparently irritated, but his eyes told a different story. For once, they were at ease, no trace of their usual darkness whatsoever. The earthy color gleamed and with a jolt of shock, I realized that there just maybe could be unshed tears hiding there.

Then again, I _do_ have a very vivid imagination.

"My apologies," he murmured, startling me out of my thoughts. "Please do not take my question as a sign of contempt. All things said and done, I _am_ truly happy to see you."

Oh my God. He _does_ have a heart!

"I'm simply curious why, and how, you're back."

I sat down on the bed, grabbed the note from S that I'd angrily crumpled a while ago, and threw it at him. he expertly caught it and unfolded it, eyes scanning the writing at an inhuman speed. When he was finished, he placed it on the dresser next to him and asked,

"What do they mean by 'regressing?'"

I shrugged.

"Beats me. I was doing just fine back home."

That was a lie, but hey, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

He raised his eyebrows in an _I-know-that-you're-lying_ gesture and I dropped his gaze. He shook his head and gestured over at my backpack with a wave of his hand.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Hmm? This?"

"Yes that."

"S gave it to me. Said it was 'to get me started.' And before you ask, I have no idea what that means."

He frowned and reached for it while I absently pried at the callouses on my left hand. After I tossed it to him, he thoroughly inspected it, practically turning the damn thing inside out. Eventually seeming satisfied, he threw it back down on to the bed.

While he was doing this, a thought was slowly churning in my mind and after a moment of hesitation, I managed to ask:

"Henry, why are you here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you are, but I don't think that it's just chance. Somehow, S _knew_ that you were going to be here. Not just that, but they probably knew that you were going to help me with the creepy guy back there."

"And?"

"And you don't find it weird that we both magically happened to be in the same area at the same time?"

"Oh this place?" He questioned with a smirk. "Not at all; I go here every night."

"What, are you Damon Salvatore now and frequent bars?"

He appeared to be confused for a moment before shaking his head.

"I don't know who that is," he exasperatedly said. "And _no_, I do _not_ 'frequent bars.' Adam and his family may have been killed, but that doesn't mean that there are not a few stragglers here and there."

"So then you're still rounding up the herd?"

"...You could say that."

I smiled and yawned, completely wiped and ready to sleep for like, a week. Henry, upon seeing this, tilted his head to the side and frowned.

"You're not thinking of staying here, are you?" He asked and I shrugged.

"I dunno. It has a bed, which is all that I really care about at the moment. And 'sides. S told me to find this place, so I don't think that they'd have a problem with me crashing here."

As I spoke, I tiredly lay down and pulled one of the fluffy pillows over my head. I heard Henry take a deep, irritated breath as he got up from his chair. His feet made no sound as he walked over to stand in front of me, dark eyes filled with impatience.

"Come on," he said and held out his hand. "This God forsaken tavern is filled with vile, horrid creatures. It is absolutely no place suitable for _anyone_ to stay, let alone you."

I was about to chuck a pillow at him, but then the sincerity of his statement hit me. I sat up, rubbed my sleepy eyes, and took his hand.

"Fine. But for the record, I totally could have made it on my own."

He ignored me and practically dragged me into the hall, down the stairs, and out of the bar. The freezing night air hit me full force and I shivered, cursing S to the fiery pits of hell for not sending me a jacket. Henry, after calling for a carriage, shrugged out of his overcoat and gently pressed it around my shoulders. If I hadn't been turning into a freaking popsicle, I would have definitely refused it (or so I told myself). But instead, I muttered a meek thank-you before climbing into the stagecoach that pulled up a few seconds later.

And all the way to Henry's place, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was finally going home.

* * *

**Annnd that's a wrap for this chapter. I understand that it might be a little slow right now, but I have to reestablish Henry and Olivia's relationship as well as get the exposition out of the way. I promise that we'll get into the conflict in the next chapter. **

**Until next week,**

**Adios mis amigos!**

**-Nopride**


	3. The Plot Thickens

**Hello everyone! First off, I'm sorry that this update is late. I had major AP tests that practically killed me and I had no time to write. That being said, with school winding down, I promise I'll update more regularly. **

**In other news, for all of you Skyrim fans out there, I will be making a fic for that as well. Please check it out if you're interested! **

**Sam Fraser: It is quite strange, isn't it?**

**Shellzbells24: I agree, the pairing is adorable! But you'll have to wait and see...**

**Supernatural Fan1213: Thank you! Here's the next update for ya!**

**VoicelessComposer: Thanks! Glad you liked it!**

**And without further ado, the chapter begins!**

* * *

**Previously on Time After Time...**

_And all the way to Henry's place, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was finally going home._

* * *

Now

_The man in black held his revolver loosely in his hands. The lead bullets jingled in his fingers, clanging together like silver coins in a purse. One by one, he loaded them into their empty slots._

_One..._

_Two..._

_Three..._

_Four..._

_Five..._

_Six..._

_Bang!_

_Hell, at least it worked._

_The girl in the chair next to him stirred, tired eyes widening considerably as she took in her surroundings. She struggled against the binds that held her down._

_"Let me go!" She shouted, fire entering her gaze._

_"He smiled and cocked the gun once more._

_"Alright."_

_He settled it over her chest._

_"You're free."_

_Bang!_

* * *

I woke up with a scream caught in my throat.

Gasping, I sat bolt upright in bed, frantically clutching the sheets in death grip. My hair flew in disarray around my face as I struggled to get my bearings. Where was the gunman? Why am I not dead? Why am I not in that-

Oh.

Dream. Right. Not reality.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I settled back against the headboard and closed my eyes. Damn, I hate that nightmare. I've been having it for weeks now and it just gets worse and worse every time. I don't even know why I'm still surprised; maybe I thought that being back in Hotel 1800s would change things.

Guess I was wrong.

I looked out the window and frowned. Judging by the color of the sky, it was about five o'clock in the morning. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again, so I heaved myself out of bed and walked over to my backpack. Thankfully, I'd saved my clothes that S had made me change out of and I quickly put them on. Let me just say that you have no idea how amazing jeans are until you've been forced to wear a scratchy, poofy dress. Dear God, I've never missed them so much in my life!

After making sure that my hair did _not_ look like tangled rope, I carefully opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The hardwood floor was chilly against my bare feet as I softly padded toward the staircase, making sure to avoid as many creaky planks as I could. No way in hell did I want to wake up Henry; he's cranky enough as it is. God only knows how he's like in the morning.

When I finally found the stairs, light was pouring through one of the six-paned windows at the end of the hall. It danced through the air, illuminating all that it touched and giving off a comforting sparkle. I softly smiled and headed downstairs, unable to avoid the loud paneling this time. Wincing, I moved as fast as I could, only to practically _kill_ myself because of my stupid, clumsy feet that decided to get caught in a jumble. Unable to keep my balance, I landed in a crumpled heap on the ground floor. The wind rushed out of my lungs in one big gust and as I lay there gasping like an idiot, a low chuckle reached my ears.

Managing to turn my head, I saw Henry, dressed and alert, sitting in what I remembered as the living room (or parlor or whatever it's called in the 1800s). I glared at him for perhaps two seconds before firing off my sometimes overly-snarky mouth.

"Noooo I don't need help at all!" I exclaimed and pushed my knees underneath my stomach in an attempt to get up. "I mean... who... would think... that someone... who just... fell down... a flight... of... _stairs_... would need... anything?"

My retort wasn't as strong as I'd hoped it would be due to my frantic pants for air. However, it _did_ cause Henry to abandon his chair and walk over to me. He offered me his hand and I begrudgingly took it, reason overweighing pride for once in my life. He hauled me to my feet and I swayed, almost falling again. He gripped my shoulder to steady me and led me over to the couch, where I sat down and put my face in my palms.

"Are you alright?" He asked and I snorted.

"Fan-frigging-tastic."

Well, the Dean Winchester approach never hurts, does it?

"I apologize for laughing," he muttered and I could somehow tell that he was staring at his shoes. "It wasn't fair of me to do so."

I nearly choked on my own spit in surprise as I snapped my head up to look at him. As per usual, his face was impassive, but his eyes contained the slightest trace of sincerity. I blinked and dropped his gaze, annoyingly feeling all the blood rush into my cheeks.

God damn teenage hormones.

"It's fine," I said with a wave of my hand. "The past is in the- wait... you know what? You're forgiven."

He nodded and took a seat back in his chair, which was directly across from me. I crossed my legs and awkwardly bit my lip, not knowing what else to say. Thankfully, he solved that problem for me with his next sentence.

"Any word from what sent you back here?"

"Getting tired of me already?" I said with a raise of my eyebrows. Despite my sarcasm though, I couldn't help but feel a little hurt. "That was quick."

"No," he said patiently. "I would simply like to know what we're dealing with this time."

"You and me both. But as far as anymore notes, Edsel is a no-go."

He frowned.

"I don't understand that reference."

"Of course you don't."

We made idle conversation for a while, me asking him how he'd been, him basically drilling me about S. Why was it back? Did I do anything to make it angry? Did I have any idea who or what it was? My responses to these questions were all the same: No, no, and mega no. Eventually, I got tired of him coming up with all the preguntas and decided to fire a few of my own.

"What year is this anyway?" I asked after he'd made the two of us some coffee. "Is it still 1863?"

"No," he responded and propped his booted foot up on the coffee table. "Quite far from it actually."

"Then when is it?"

"1865."

My heart froze in my chest as I contemplated the date. No... no please don't let it have already happened.

"What month?"

My voice quivered with anxiety and I grasped my drink to keep my hands from trembling. If Henry noticed my discomfort, he didn't show it and instead continued with his explanations.

"April. The... fifth to be exact."

Son. Of. A. _Bitch_.

Ten _freaking_ days. That's all that's left.

"Shit... Henry... I think I know why I'm here."

* * *

_**Next Chapter in Time After Time...**_

_"Mr. Lincoln, you have to listen to me!"_

_"Miss Armstrong, what on Earth are you talking about?"_

_"If you don't leave right frigging now, you're going to-"_

_The sound of a gun cut me off mid sentence and after a few seconds, I let out a deafening scream. _

* * *

**Annnd we enter the plot! I hope you liked this chapter! Please review and, if you're into Skyrim, check out my other fic which should be up soon!**

**Until next time,**

**Adios mis amigos!**

**-Nopride. **


End file.
